Solangelo Optionals
by FaiKazahaya
Summary: An account of prologues to stories in which Solangelo is involved, waiting for approval for continuations. (Nico/Will) Contains crossovers with pairings such as Kuro/Fai of Tsubasa RC.
1. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hellos to everyone, this is FaiKazahaya finally succumbing to the awesomeness that is Solangelo. I have read just about all of the fics provided on this site, and I will continue reading them until the passion dies down and I find an even cuter coupling to love and ship with all of my heart. But for the time being, let's see what I can make with this!

What you're about to read are intros to story ideas I have about Solangelo. They are mainly crossovers, some things you may be able to recognize and others you don't but are so enjoyable that I would recommend them to you.

**YOUR REVIEWS ARE IMPORTANT!** Without them, I will have no inspiration to continue any of these. It'll be up to you to choose what you like, to suggest things that could happen, and to provide other story ideas you'd like to read about. I'm open to any suggestions.

So please, take each idea into account. If you don't know the story that I'm crossing over, just read on anyway. I'm most likely to go heavy with CLAMP mangas such as Tsubasa RC and Legal Drug, and it would be awful if no one read them just because they had no idea what those two mangas were about. Keep going, I promise they've good.

**Please follow and review, because if you do you're a true shipper of the Solangelo couple!**


	2. Angel Reaper

**Disclaimer: I own not the books of Rick Riordan—but I did buy them all.**

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><p><strong>Angel Reaper<strong>

"I-I'm scared," the little girl of about four or five simpered, eyes wide and glistening with tears that couldn't fall.

"I know," the young man murmured, sitting down next to her on the stark white bed sheets. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "But it will be okay."

Immediately, the girl curled into his side, head nestled under his arm. Her bottom lip trembled. "How do you know?"

"I know," he said with finality, but managed to keep his voice low and soothing. He rubbed his hand calmingly over her upper arm, and squeezed it gently. "I have taken others there, too. You won't be alone."

"Are you an angel?" she whispered.

The boy blinked dark-colored eyes down at the girl, just about oozing confusion. "An angel?"

She nodded vigorously, regaining some of her energy as she wiped her tears away to see him better. Her eyes had brightened to a foreshadowing of actualexcitement. _Excitement_! "You're here to take me to heaven like you did for Momma, right? You're my Momma's angel."

The boy regained most of his composure, but he still acted skeptic. "Yes, I am," he allowed. "I'm your angel, too."

By that point, the continuous flat-lining of the machine hooked up to the corpse was becoming aggravating to the point that the young man nearly summoned his obsidian sword—yes, he had a sword, not a scythe. The Reaper disapproved also—and hack the damn thing to pieces. But he couldn't let his impatience show, should the poor soul take it wrongly. He's had a number than would dissolve into insanity the moment he would glare even slightly in their direction.

So he stood, calming his expression before turning to look back down at the girl, who was a mere bluish outline of the body lying dead in the hospital bed behind her. In the darkness of night and the glow of flickering machinery, it cast the spirit in a sort of surreal pulsating glow.

He held out a hand for her. "Should we get going, then? Your momma's waiting."

The girl flashed a joyous grin and leapt to her feet—even though she could have just as well floated upright. She grabbed his hand in both of hers, bouncing on her heels. "To Momma, to Momma! Ooh, I have sooo much to tell her! Like how—"

"Easy, there," the boy interrupted, voice strained. He was on the urge of snapping at the kid to shut up, even though she hadn't even _started_ talking. Only the living should babble. "How about you wait until we find your mom before you start storytelling?"

The little girl deflated, but she nodded. "Sorry."

He squeezed her hand and turned to the wall in front of them. Muttering a quick incantation, a rip of space directed them directly to the Underworld, but before they could go on in, the girl hesitated.

"It's so dark," she whispered, sounding frightened.

"Only until you arrive. The Un… _heaven_ looks however you want it to look. Just picture a place you love, and it'll become more appealing. Ready?"

Pursing her lips together, she nodded. She seemed deep in thought, probably trying to find that one special place that would forever be her last home. It made her soul-eyebrows furrow a bit and her dimples show on her cheeks. After a moment, a grin split across her face, and she giggled. "Okay!" she said, happy again. Her hand squeezed his, and she bounced on her heels. "Let's go!"

With a small half-smile, the boy led her into the Underworld.

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><p>"Thanks for the help, Hazel," he murmured to the girl beside him, watching the little girl as she reunited with her mother.<p>

Hazel smiled lightly at the scene, twisting her hands together behind her back. "You're welcome, Nico. It's not every day that we get to see a happy reunion in the land of the dead."

Nico managed a small smile back, but it soon faded as a heavy weight pressed into his shoulders, and a sharp jab brought about a headache in his temple. He recognized the feeling immediately, and dreaded it. It was too soon after the last one!

Hazel's eyes flitted to Nico. "Do you sense that?" she wondered.

He nodded briskly. "Someone's dying again. Painfully."

"So you're going again?" she guessed.

"It would be best." Nico fought the sigh that came to his lips. "But it won't be easy. You can sense it too, right? This one's from that damn 'Life'gang. I'm sure his groupies will be doing everything in their power to stop his death, and won't settle for me easing his suffering."

"But his demise is imminent, isn't it?" Hazel murmured.

He finally let the sigh escape. Nico raised his head to the fiery abyss of the Underworld sky. "Yes."

"Poor boy." Hazel's voice wasn't mourning, but filled with an ancient sadness and sympathy. She remembered what it was like to die, slowly. She was lucky that the Reaper had taken her under his wing so she could do good deeds for the dying and dead. If she had been abandoned in the Underworld, she would have roamed the endless lands with the unbearable pains of her death, eventually turning into a spirit of vengefulness. This way, she could be at peace and help other souls to feel at ease in death in a way she couldn't.

Nico frowned up at the sky. "Calling him a boy," he muttered under his breath. Louder, he told her, "you make me feel _really_ old, you know that?"

Hazel's smile returned. It lessened the weight on Nico's shoulders immensely. "I try. We _were _born in the early 1900s, after all."

Nico huffed irately, but was not as harsh as he could have been. "No excuses, sis. The guy's about… Mm, nineteen? Twenty? At least give him the mercy of calling him a _young man_."

Her amusement seemed to rise. "You're very defensive of these _young men_, Nico, aren't you?"

Nico flinched, blanching. "Wh-What?"

Hazel's grin only grew from there. She reached over and gave him a solid pat on the back, making him stumble. "Go end his suffering," she suggested, eyes sparkling. "Don't let the Solaces mess things up! And maybe you'll get a lover out of it, too!"

"A Solace for a lover?" Nico blanched further, and he grimaced with a shudder. "Hazel, get your head out of the clouds! There's no way… _This isn't the time for lovers, _Hazel, we're_ Reapers_!"

His sister Reaper just winked at me. "Whatever you say, brother. Now get on going before you're too late."

Nico shook his head in disbelief, finding her suggestive nature strange and eerie in a place like the Underworld. But he allowed himself to listen to her, and walked back to where the rip in space was.

Muttering under his breath a slightly different incantation, Nico opened a door that would lead him to the dying Solace, and walked through without hesitation. The shadows enveloped him, but the slight illumination of a high-noon sun masked by a gentle shade greeted him ahead. Already, he could hear the frantic voices of the people trying to spare the dying man's life.

_Let them _try _to fight me,_ Nico thought with a frown. _I'll show them how much they're hurting him by keeping him alive._

With a deep breath, he stepped out of the shadows, and summoned his obsidian sword as an afterthought.

People whirled at his arrival immediately, both sensing him and seeing the sudden darkening in space as he appeared. They were massed around a single point—the point where Nico could sense the dying presence of the young man. When Nico was able to get a glimpse of the damage as people swirled around, he winced. No man in his right mind could live through the pain of arrows in his abdomen—and poisoned ones, at that. He didn't have much time left.

But the other Solaces were my first concern. The majority of them had turned on me, mixed looks of shock and hatred marring their otherwise healthy complexions, while the others tried vainly to save their fallen man. A few of them shook off their shock faster than others and started drawing their weapons.

"You cannot kill a Reaper," he told them in a bored tone as an arrow whistled towards him. He lifted a hand and became transparent, the arrow flying right through the Reaper and imbedding itself into the tree behind him. "And you cannot save him."

"Bullshit!" a boy who was but a child ground out. He notched another arrow onto his bowstring. "His condition is improving rapidly!"

"For how long?" Nico muttered, already walking forward. He walked through anyone who attempted to stand in his way, and used his will to make them pass out, lessening his miseries as each male fell to the ground unconscious. The young Reaper knew he couldn't keep it up for long, but it was easier to do _this_ rather than to try and reason with them.

Soon the only Solaces still conscious were the dying man and the ones that refused to get involved with the Reaper. But there was one stubborn Solace at the dying man's side, even if he didn't try to lash out at Nico. The young Reaper decided to spare the teen, and kneeled at the side of the dying Solace.

His eyes blearily looked up at Nico, looking weary with pain and struggle. He swallowed dryly. "I'm sorry," he rasped.

Nico narrowed his eyes slightly. He set his sword to his side and leaned forward a bit. "For what?"

"The Solaces." The dying man coughed a weak chuckle. "Stubborn boys, aren't they?"

Nico had enough energy to spare to roll his eyes. "Yeah, well, I think that the Hunters are worse in terms of stubbornness. Your groupie seems _naïve_ to realize that death can ease suffering, rather than cause it."

The man smiled tightly. He held out a shaking, pale hand. "I'm Michael."

Nico felt nice enough to shake his hand and reply with, "Nico."

Michael dropped his hand as his strength was sapped. His breath rattled in his chest. "Will," he whispered.

The Solace Nico had spared leaned forward. There were tears in his eyes, and they were blue. Very blue. Nico had no idea as to why he decided to take note of the teen's eye color at all, but at that realization, the young Reaper saw how sun-kissed his disheveled blonde hair was as well. "Yeah, Michael?" the teen whispered back.

"You're the senior Solace now," Michael coughed, blood staining his lips. "Lead them well, Solace."

Will nodded, hands shaking.

Nico met Will's blue eyes over the body of the teen's dying leader for but a moment. He didn't know what he was looking for, but Will nodded in finality, as if giving the young Reaper permission to take his senior.

Nico nodded back, eyes resting on him for a moment longer before he turned back to Michael and rested his hands on either side of his face. The Solaces closed their eyes.

"Tell them…goodbye," Michael breathed.

Nico summoned the shadows once more and, with one hand on Michael's soul and the other holding his sword, they melted into the Underworld, leaving the retired Solace leader's body behind.

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><p><strong>I'm sad that I have no reviews on this fic yet. *tears threaten to fall* I mean, I <strong>_**know**_** that it's only been up for, like, not even two days. But I have a feeling that no one likes my crossover. Why noooooot? Kazahaya is adorable, whether you've read the original works or not!**

**Remember, reviews and suggestions are like hugs and candy!**

**And I need an idea for another fic. Anyone got something they don't want to write but want to see written?**


	3. Eye for the Samurai

**Disclaimer: Do I have to keep doing these? I dunno. I no own anything Uncle Rick owns. I no own anything CLAMP owns either.**

**This is a Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles/Percy Jackson and the Olympians crossover.**

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><p><strong>Eye for the Samurai<strong>

Will could have lived without the jolting and shuddering of the horse carriage's unsteady trek across an endless dirt road.

Granted, it sent shivers down his spine with the already-present excitement for going to see his parents' friends in Nihon, and set his adrenaline rush on high, but it was making his butt go numb. At his umpteenth uncomfortable shift on the hard wooden floor, his mother turned to look at him, strawberry-blonde hair swaying in the breeze and emerald eyes soft but stern as they looked down at her son.

"Oh, come now, William," she said in a soft scolding voice. "If it's that bad, you'll neverbe able to go on travels with your father!" The boy squirmed and hunched in on himself, flushing in humiliation.

My father turned at the front of the carriage where he was holding the horses' reins. His amber eyes turned amused, and he chuckled a bit, is own brown hair swaying like mother's was. "Tired already, Will?"

Will's father was an archeologist, always travelling to different places to learn the secrets in the past. It was the reason Will was named as he was, as William was a name his father had found while translating an ancient text deep within the underground catacombs of a dead land. And though Will wanted nothing more than to follow his father in his never-ending travels, if it took this much carriage-riding, Will might just refuse! He was only eight!

Will muttered unhappily under his breath, face bright red as he rubbed his sore bottom.

Mother's eyes softened. "We're almost there, aren't we, Syaoran?" she asked her husband.

His father looked to the map beside him for reference. "Only a few minutes from here, actually, if I remember correctly."

Will's mother smiled gently. "You're always right, Syaoran," she assured him.

He flashed a quick smile over his shoulder, and returned his attention back to the reins. "Thanks, Sakura."

"So… What are they like?" Will wondered, bouncing with the shuddering of the carriage. His mother, Sakura, placed a gentle arm around his shoulders to still him.

"Where to start?" Will's father, Syaoran, chuckled.

"Oh, hush," Sakura sighed, but her voice was filled with only warmth and longing. "Kurogane-san and Fai-san aren't bad!"

"I wasn't calling them _bad_!" Syaoran defended himself. "_Interesting_ is more like it. Or _unique_."

Sakura's smile widened. "Unique is good. It fits them."

Will waited impatiently for his mother or father to continue, bouncing again.

Sakura almost frowned. "But to describe them to you… Well, Kurogane-san is a bit…"

"Stubborn?" Syaoran suggested, not sounding as if he meant it rudely. His voice was merely suggestive.

"And a bit brash," Sakura agreed. "You'll recognize him immediately, don't worry. Remember what to look for?"

"A _really really_ big and tall man," Will drawled. "With spiky black hair and red eyes."

"Yes," Syaoran agreed. "Very tall. And Fai-san?"

"Also really tall, but not as tall as Kurogane-san. He has disheveled blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, and blue eyes, like me!"

Sakura smiled. "Yes, the two of you _do_ share a resemblance." Her eyes saddened a bit, but she didn't continue.

"We're here," Syaoran declared.

"YAY!" Will crowed, leaping up and scrambling to the front of the carriage.

"William!" Will's mother snapped, but she caught herself and sighed. "Oh, dear. William, do be careful!"

"Yes, Mother!" he perched up next to his father to watch, delighted in the feel of sunlight on his skin, and the sight of almost alien buildings and people pass by. He turned to his father. "Where are they?"

"Just a bit farther in," Syaoran assured him. "See the big building in the middle?"

Will squinted, and grew even more excited. "Yeah!"

"That's the palace of Nihon," his father explained. "That's where Kurogane-san and Fai-san are living, serving the goddess and the princess Tomoyo-chan."

Will was practically jittery with excitement. "Faster!" he cried, causing people from the sides of the roads to stare. Not that Will cared. "_Faster_!"

"Easy there, William!" his father looped an arm around his shoulders to keep the boy from jumping out of the carriage in his eagerness. "We'll be there in plenty of time! Sit still and be patient!"

Will pouted and wriggled. "I don't wanna!" he whined. "I wanna meet Fai-san and Kurogane-san!"

Syaoran placed a solid hand on Will's head. "Be _still_," he said sternly, but warmly. "They're not going to run away before we even see them!"

Will's pout intensified, but he slouched and let his father have his way. They were nearing the palace anyway.

His father still had his hand tangled in Will's sun-kissed blond hair even as they passed through the gate into the palace of Nihon, a warm and comforting presence that Will knew he would never be able to replace, not for the world.

Syaoran tousled Will's hair a bit, drawing him from his thoughts. When the boy looked up at his father questioningly, the brunette pointed off to one side of the palace, where a wide expanse of grass could be seen, littered with straw dummies and weapon racks. There were two people there, a man and a boy, both shirtless.

Will knew he should have noticed that the man was Kurogane-san by his father's prodding, but he had eyes only for the smaller of the black-haired males. He had a wooden sword in his hands, holding it as if it was a new toy to play with, and his sword man's stance was graceful, bare feet shifting effortlessly as he made a swing at a straw dummy, and knocked it straight off of its stick. Sweat clung appealingly to his thin frame, and dripped down to his low-hanging dark tan trousers. His skin seemed to absolutely glow in the afternoon sun.

Will was hypnotized instantly.

His mother and father called out to them, jarring their son from his staring, and the large man—Kurogane-san—turned. The boy, however, kept practicing until the man turned and snapped something to him from over his shoulder, and he relaxed his posture, turning as well.

He looked about Will's age!

Will forced himself to look away so as to be caught staring at the boy, and instead turned his attention to the larger of the males. Kurogane-san walked up to the carriage, and Will's eyes bulged in their sockets. He was _huge_!

"You are looking well, Kurogane-san," Sakura called, voice warm.

The large man grunted, but gave a little half-smile that was more of a smirk.

"How is Fai-san?" Will's mother continued, smiling back.

"Fai-san is very happy to see you, Sakura-chan," a new voice called in a sing-song voice. A tall man wearing a kimono with his trademark blond hair and blue eyes strolled up to the carriage, and stood beside Kurogane-san. "Come now, dear. Enough with the titles. We've known each other for too long for that to continue."

Sakura blushed. "S-Sorry, Fai-sa—Fai."

Fai grinned brightly, and skipped around Kurogane-san to stand beside the boy just behind him. "Nico, dear, don't be so sullen. Stand beside your daddy~!" the man crooned happily, seemingly oblivious to both of the black-haired males' pointed glares as he practically _petted_ the boy's mop of black hair. Instantly a swell of jealousy tightened Will's chest, but he managed to beat it down before their attention turned to him.

Fai's smile faltered for but a moment at the sight of Will before it came back stronger than ever before. "Now who is _this_ cutie?" the man asked, looking at the boy's parents.

By then, Will's parents were climbing out of the carriage. Sakura stroked the muzzle of the horses in turn, earning compassionate whickering in return. Syaoran offered to help Will down, but the boy jumped down all on his own. The two men were even _taller_ when Will was standing on the ground. He had to crane his neck to even look at them!

Syaoran placed a solid hand on my shoulder. "This is William, our son."

"William-kun, eh?" Fai cocked his head with a mischievous smile. For a heart-stopping moment, Will was afraid that the blonde had noticed his stray gazes to the ignorant shirtless boy. "That's a mouthful," was all he said, though, and his grin didn't fade. In fact, it only got _wider_, if that was possible! He kneeled down in front of Will. "I think I'll call you Willie-chan!" he cried gleefully, pulling the boy into his embrace. "Hello Willie-chan! You can call me Fai-chan!"

Fai…_chan_ pulled back enough to point at the men behind him. "And those are—"

"Don't you _dare_ mutilate our names," Kurogane snapped, glowering.

"—Kuro-burro and Neeks-chan!"

"_YOU GODDAMN MAGE_!"

"_Eeeek_!" Fai-chan cried playfully, holding onto Will tighter. "Save me, Willie-chan! The _scaaaary_ Kuro-chan is going to hurt meeee~!" He even held out a hand to Nico. "Neeks-chan! Save mommy!"

The boy quirked up an eyebrow and managed to look unimpressed, but his cheeks colored. Will wondered if it had anything to do with being called "Neeks-chan" or how his strange caretaker seemed to be convinced that he was the boy's "mommy".

Fai-chan's arms were warm and gentle, though. Will figured that he was or would be a very kind fath—_mother_ to whoever he decided to birth or take in. _Scratch the _birth _part, _Will thought after a moment. _If he's calling Kurogane-san _"daddy" _and himself _"mommy",_ there's no way he doesn't have attraction for men._

Will felt his cheeks heat up._ Just like me._

"Awwww~!" Fai-chan sang. He nuzzled cheeks with Will. "He's _blushing_~!"

Will sputtered incoherent thoughts and tried unsuccessfully to push Fai-chan away so he could cover his face in embarrassment, but he had no such luck.

And that was how Nico got his first impression of the son of Sakura and Syaoran.

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><p><strong>Isn't a blushing and enraptured Will so adorable? And with Fai, it's even cuter! I almost squealed when he was coming up with the nicknames! I only just realized how cute Fai and Will could be as some sort of dynamic duo of flirting and teasing!<strong>

**Nico, you and your grumpy daddy don't stand a chance once Will's used to Fai's coddling! That brooding and cold nature won't live long!**

**This is now officially my favorite prologue! Please review, or you'll make Will and Fai cry!**

**PS, this is only an excerpt. And I _will_ be continuing this whether you like it or not.**


	4. Gwillym

**A/N: So, apparently people don't like crossovers unless they know what it is that is being referenced. This conclusion upset me a bit, but I will not let it drag me down. From now on, I will not write a crossover unless, perhaps, Eye for the Samurai becomes a little more popular (In which it has a bit, actually. I got someone to look into Tsubasa and like it! Thank you for doing that!).**

**I've decided to delete By My Memory for this very reason, and this may help my cause a little more. In terms of popular genres, this is one of the few that hasn't been addressed yet (in my opinion), and I was willing to take it upon myself to write it. Besides, fantasy is my strong-suit.**

**Disclaimer: Nico and Will are not mine. The plot, however, is.**

**~ΨΩΨ~**

**Gwillym**

_**Chapter 1:**_** Hunter**

_**KNIGHTS WANTED!**_

_A dragon has been witnessed flying off with the cattle of our local ranchers, and the stealing has been occurring closer and closer to town in each passing. Our people are beginning to fear for their safety. Any group of knights willing to venture out to slay the foul beast will be paid handsomely should they return with its head._

_For more information, go to the Delvwin bar in the southeast section of town, and turn into the alley. Go into the only door there._

_God bless you, kind souls._

_**The city of Delvwin**_

Nico hummed under his breath as he read the post, before ripping it from the bulletin to inspect it a little closer. _They weren't very clear exactly _what_ the knights would have to deal with, were they? _With a sigh, he rubbed his chin and fingered the stubble starting to grow there.

With an impatient whicker, the black-haired man's horse bumped the back of his head with its muzzle. Nico chuckled a little under his breath and turned to his steed.

"Easy there, Blackjack," he murmured, stroking his jet-black nose. "Let me think."

Blackjack bobbed his head and whinnied softly, swishing his tail. He stuck his nose into the pack over Nico's shoulder.

Nico batted the horse away. "No treats yet," he said plainly. Then he looked down at his hunting dog Mrs. O'Leary and sighed when he saw her sitting beside Blackjack with a begging look on her face. "We'll eat soon enough," Nico tried to soothe them. "But I'm out of money and running low on supplies, so we need a slaying job before we can buy any food. Can the two of you wait?"

Blackjack whickered and Mrs. O'Leary bowed her head.

Nico nodded, and looked back at the notice, then to the bulletin. He exhaled slowly. "Alright," he whispered, adjusting the pack over his shoulder. "Southeastern part of town. That's not too far from here." He nodded to his only friends. "Go try to find some food for yourselves. I can walk there, no problem. But don't stray too far, alright?"

Mrs. O'Leary barked and leapt to her feet, tail wagging and tongue lolling as she began to pant happily. Blackjack reared his head and bounced playfully on light hooves, and the two of them trotted off for the edge of town.

With a small, grim smile, Nico's free hand slid instinctively to the sheath at his hip, and he set off to the bar.

People didn't even spare the man a glance as they bustled about, but the occasional one shooting a wary look skyward, revealing to Nico that the notice had been right on at least one point thus far.

Upon walking up to the bar, Nico located and walked down the alley at its side, and looked for the door. It was camouflaged almost completely in the shadows, and the secrecy of the placing had his grip tightening on his sword.

With silent feet, he made his way to that door and gently opened it, careful not to make a single noise. As he did so, he readied his sword hand for a quick draw, should anything threatening be waiting on the other side.

"I know yer there."

Nico froze, letting the door swing the rest of the way open. Wood _clunk_ed deafeningly against brick.

The speaker was a man sitting hunched in a chair, elbowed leaning heavily into the dining table that separated the two men. Nico and the man, a blonde under a blanket of mud and grime, gauged each other for a few moments.

The blonde stood. "I 'ake ih yer 'ere 'cause of the pos'?" He nodded to the scrap of paper in Nico's hand. Then he cocked his head to the side. "Yer know, I _dih_ say a _grou'_ _of_ _knigh's_ when I wroh tha'. An' I don' see one."

Nico said nothing.

The man leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. "Whuh's a boy like yer goin' 'oo do agains' a dragon, hm? Yer bla'e may look fancy, buh tha' means noth'n."

"I'm not a boy!" Nico spouted without thought.

Teeth were missing from the blonde's grin. "Ah, yer no', eh?"

The black-haired man bristled and clamped his mouth shut.

"'Erhaps youn' man, then? Yer looks 'oo be abou' se'en'een, eigh'een?"

"Twenty," Nico corrected, deathly quiet.

The blonde laughed. "Yer small for yer age, kih!"

"Just give me the details about the dragon, and I can be on my way," Nico snapped.

But the man would have none of that. "Wha's yer name?"

Nico narrowed his eyes.

The blonde chuckled again. "I'm Oc'avian," he held out a hand. "Who're yer?"

"Nico." Nico didn't take Octavian's hand. "Can you just get on with it?"

"Why're yer so willin' 'oo go off an' geh yerself kille'?" Octavian's grin widened, showing off his missing teeth even more. Bile rose in Nico's throat. "Tryin' to im'ress some woman of yers?"

Nico rolled his eyes. "That's none of your concern. Now tell me what I want, or you end up with a sword down your throat." He drew his sword with a flourish.

"Aye, aye," Octavian sighed, not seeming all that concerned. He pulled out a slip of parchment from seemingly nowhere and unfolded it. "The dra'on slaugh'ering the ca'hle is always sigh'ed north of the ou'skir's of 'own." He handed the paper to Nico, who saw that it was a crudely drawn map of the town and a road stretching northward. "Follow tha' road 'oo the moun'ains, and you'll be near ih. Sa'ly, no one has mana'ed 'oo find ihs nes'. We canno' 'ell if the beas' is a male or female, an' the colorin' of the beas' is un'lear, bein' as ih only s'rihes a' nigh'. Sigh'in's say ihs a golden s'aled feer-breather."

Nico was finding it harder and harder to understand the guy, but he nodded as though he had understood every word. A fire breather up in the northern mountains—that at least gave Nico _some _hint as to what it was he was up against. "What color fire?" he wondered.

Octavian frowned. "Eh, boy? Feer co'or? Why is tha' so impor'an'?"

"Determines the rank of the dragon," Nico explained, sighing. "The kingdom never told anyone about it, did they? Well, you have the no-fire dragons at the bottom, the smoke breathers, and then the fire-breathers that spit red, orange, yellow, blue, and white fire. The poison-spitters are at the same rank as the white fires. You said this dragon was a fire-breather?"

Octavian nodded. "No one mentioned the fire color," he admitted.

"It's fine," Nico stated dully. He turned to the door. "I'll take my leave, and hope my path crosses with your dragon. How much is the reward?"

Octavian's grin returned. "'Oo thousan'."

"Three," Nico corrected, and left.

Sheathing his sword, he left the alley and whistled for his horse and dog, heading north. They came bounding in shortly, so Nico could mount Blackjack and take off at a trot in the direction of the road on Octavian's map. _It better not be a hoax,_ Nico thought darkly. _Or that man's going to be Mrs. O'Leary's next meal._

He grinned at the image that left in his head.

The sun was reaching its midday peak by the time Nico rode Blackjack to the path drawn on the map, and Nico could figure the trek would take at least two days to get to the mountains and back, plus another day depending on how long it took to slay the dragon.

The thought made him cringe a bit, like it always did. But it was becoming easier for him to come to terms with it, so he wouldn't hesitate and get his head bitten off like what almost happened the first few times he went to kill a beast.

Deeper down the road, Mrs. O'Leary leapt in front of Blackjack and crouched down, growing at the road ahead. Nico's horse stopped with a displeased snort, but otherwise made no noise.

Nico gazed into the forest around them intently, reaching for the hilt of his sword. The mountains were right above them, and it was only evening. Were they there _already_?

Mrs. O'Leary crept forward cautiously, snuffling the ground as Blackjack followed close behind. His horse lowered his own head, paying close attention to Nico's hunting dog as she checked their surroundings. Silently, Nico drew his sword.

Lifting her tail, Mrs. O'Leary's head shot up and pointed to one side of the path.

_She's picked up its scent,_ Nico thought.

The black-haired man freed his other hand from Blackjack's reins and snapped his fingers. In an instant, both his dog and his horse bolted into the forest. He crouched low against Blackjack and tucked his sword against his side, angled so it was always at the ready but not slicing his skin. Even then, the branches occasionally whacked at him and tore into his cloak.

The ride was short and swift before Nico's dog slowed to a trot, the fur on her haunches raised. They were nearing the mountain's base, where the bottom river met a steep incline. The perfect habitat for dragons—a nest where they're close to water while also being difficult for enemies to get to them.

Unfortunately for the dragon, Nico was used to those sorts of places. The man took a glance at the lowering sun, and gauged the sunlight to last at least two or three more hours.

_Plenty of time to find a route to the cave, wherever it is,_ Nico reasoned, jumping off Blackjack's saddle with his sword still drawn. He addressed the mountainside intently.

"Where do you smell it?" the man whispered to Mrs. O'Leary. "Directly ahead? To the side? Behind? Where is the nest?"

The large hunting dog sniffed and padded onwards. Directly ahead, then?

Nico patted Blackjack's neck and told him to stay there until they came back before following after Mrs. O'Leary.

He shouldered his emergency-supply pack with a well-earned grimace. Even if he knew how to scale steep mountainsides, it didn't mean he had to _enjoy_ it. Especially fording through the river at the base in order to even _reach_ it! That took quite a bit of walking, (At the very least mountain rivers were less water and more _rushing,_ so it wasn't too difficult to find a rock bed in the current. Though the water was as cold as the icy pits of hell, in Nico's opinion) but at least they managed to cross before the sun started to set. Nico didn't want to try following his dog or finding his horse in complete darkness.

Nico and Mrs. O'Leary climbed the mountain slowly, every so often changing direction as the hunting dog's scent trail veered off to a different area. The wall of stone looked empty to the black-haired man, but he knew how much dragons preferred camouflaging their nests.

If Nico had been a dragon, he would have had a cave in an area like that, too. Anything other than to have your head struck off by a puny mortal, after all. But he wasn't a dragon, and he had to strike off that head. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to feed and shelter himself and his companions. He couldn't spare any time to feel sympathy for that dragon—it stole food, so it had to die. Simple as that.

The man breathed a sigh of discomfort when Mrs. O'Leary pawed the ground and unearthed a section of the chasm apparently housing the dragon. With a pressure in his gut much like the weight of a rock, he readied his sword. He wasn't looking forward to seeing the beast, the fire, or the blood. Anything but the blood.

But he helped his hound dig a hole large enough in the nest for them to squeeze inside, and crawled in, sword in front of the man at all times.

The smell of dragon came at him in waves, turning the rock-like weight into a boulder. No doubt about it, there was a dragon living in that nest—and was most likely in there at that very moment.

With a growl, Mrs. O'Leary drew Nico's attention to her, where she promptly jabbed her nose to the right of the pitch-black cave and walked on. In order to keep from getting lost, the hunter was forced to follow close behind and shove his hesitant thoughts far, far away from himself.

He needed the money, after all.

The stench of dragon only got stronger the deeper they got in the nest, but it was an odd sort of stench, much unlike any of the others Nico had smelled. Mainly it smelled of rotten flesh and the metallic bite of blood and gems, but this one was a bit different. It smelled of _life_, as though the dragon had a garden inside every shadowy room that they passed by. And not just a garden—an _herb_ garden. Heavens forbid the dragon he was going to kill wanted a fresher breath, because that alone would have killed Nico, no need for the damned _fire_!

And so, Nico ended up using one hand to carry his sword and the other to hold over his mouth as he and Mrs. O'Leary slunk silently through the tunnels, eyes watering as the stench worsened. He had to feel bad for his dog on that, but the brave hound made no sound of complaint.

That is, until the voice called out and made them both jump and freeze, coaxing that traitorous yelp out of the poor dog.

"_I know you're there_," it spoke, voice masculine (though that said nothing of its gender, Nico had met plenty of females with that same deep tone). "_Why don't you come out now before I have to turn you into a pile of charcoal? I find humans a lot better alive, after all. A lot more entertaining._"

Nico cursed under his breath in his home tongue, but stepped into the room where the voice had echoed out from, holding his sword as steady as he could have in the situation—which was, if he was going to be completely honest—almost not at all. _Especially_ after he'd gotten a look at the owner of the voice.

The dragon was so large that it was half the size of the coliseum-sized cavern with its body alone, golden-colored scales glittering on its hide similarly to the bed of gold and silver coins and jewels it was resting on. White feathers covered the folds and curves of its hide, even making up a good majority of the beast's wings, while its long tail swished through coins in sounds like the pittering of rain and the clinging of thin metal, its tip puffed with the same plumage. Its head was lying on the mound of treasure, eyes almost sleepy as they gazed over at Nico.

With a grunt, the dragon shifted on its nest and readjusted itself, crossing its forelegs and turning its head slightly to get a better look at the human before it, the hunting hound at the man's heels whimpering softly, tail between her legs.

_White feathers,_ Nico thought subconsciously. _Feathers. It's stronger than a regular scaled-fire-breather, at the very least. And older than most, by its size._

The dragon and the man looked each other over for a moment more before the dragon parted its jaws to speak in a deep, rumbling voice that made the floor of coins shudder. "_You have found my home,_" it said, not sounding very surprised.

Nico swallowed, trying to keep his sword raised.

The beast cocked its head. _"Are you here to slay me?"_ it drawled. "_Or perhaps to threaten me into offering you some of my treasure? If that, be my guest and take a handful. I have too much for my liking, anyway._"

Nico's eyebrows furrowed. "D-Dragon treasure is bad l-luck," he stammered, trembling unwillingly.

"_Not when given willingly_," the dragon responded, sounding disappointed. _"I take it, then, you're here to try and slay me."_

Nico gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down; turning to the same mindset he had for every other slaying. _It's just an animal, _he thought, _and you're the hunter who needs its meat and hide for food and warmth. End its life, and strike. Kill it quick and without pain._

But he found himself unable to move in the piercing blue-eyed gaze of the dragon.

"_Will you not answer?"_ it murmured softly, voice like a brush of fresh air in the musky smell of caves around them.

Nico shuddered.

The beast lifted its head, and stretched its neck so it was closer to me. "_At the very least_," it said, just as softly. "_Tell me your name_."

The human blinked. "Wh-Why should I tell you that?"

"_Because the victim has a right to know the name of his killer_."

The dragon's gaze was so, _so_ soft, as if Nico were its baby and not its hunter. Nico found himself involuntarily melting under that gaze. "N-Nico. Nico di Angelo," he mumbled, lowering his sword. Vaguely, he heard the clatter of that sword falling to the ground a moment later, but he was captured in the dragon's gaze.

"_Nico the angel,_" the dragon tasted the name carefully, as though it were a sacred thing. _"So sad, isn't it, that you were here to kill me, little angel?"_

If Nico hadn't been hypnotized, he would have bristled and sputtered at the monstrosity for daring to even _mention_ what his name meant and then making a damn_ pet name _out of it. It was embarrassing enough to his fellow knights, but a _dragon_—a beautiful, powerful, golden dragon who watched on him with such a gentle gaze? It was downright _humiliating_.

But Nico couldn't care any less, because the beast was shrinking, morphing into a human like the black-haired man was. And bloody hell he was _gorgeous_.

Sun-kissed skin, bright blue eyes and golden hair greeted Nico, on a face that would have borne the name _angel_ far better than he did. It was, indeed, a man's body the dragon took up based on the shirtless well-toned chest that he got to see, so Nico could assume he had always been male, and the sight also held his gaze, though the surrealism was fading ever-so-slightly.

Nico narrowed his eyes at the beast when he realized that the blonde was nearing him with bare feet sliding almost silently on the sea of treasure, and he tried not to stare too openly at the way the red-brown fabric of his trousers held his legs appealingly. He made up for the blush blossoming in his cheeks in his glare.

The dragon-turned-human looked down at Nico's fallen blade with hints of amusement in his blue eyes. "You dropped your sword," he said matter-of-factly.

Nico resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirked upwards without his consent.

The blonde smiled in return, eyes sparkling. "Does this mean you're rethinking killing me?" he wondered, voice hopeful.

"More like I'll drink in your presence before I can think any further to pick it up," Nico replied, finding it a lot easier to talk while the being looked like _that_. Gods, there had to be something wrong in the air if he would say something like that_ out loud_!

The blonde's smile widened. "Then how about you come closer, so you're not near it if you retaliate?"

Nico didn't budge. "What's your name?"

The dragon huffed in amusement. "Gwillym."

"Quite the mouthful," Nico murmured back, his consciousness seemingly lost in those eyes. "Can I call you Will?"

Gwillym nodded his head acceptingly, eyes glittering. "Of course, angel."

Nico melted a bit inside.

Somewhere in his conscience, the black-haired male knew that that wasn't how he normally would have responded. He knew that he was supposed to be mad at Will for something and strike at him with his sword—to lob it off and shove it at that toothless creep Octavian as his prize. But the rest of his mind threw that lingering thought far far away from the present.

After all, why would he want to cut off the head of such a beautiful, kind-hearted man?

With a smile that threw away the rest of Nico's worries, Will held out a hand for Nico, inviting him with his eyes.

The black-haired man took it without a moment's hesitation, and allowed himself to be dragged deeper into the sea of treasure that brought about a dreamlike glow to the immortal's body. It was as though Gwillym—_Will_, Nico corrected himself subconsciously—was his own light source.

His own sun.

**~ΨΩΨ~**

**Reviews would be appreciated, as I shall not continue should no one review!**

**(Just clicking "favorite" or "follow" will not be enough, unless I come to like the story more in the time I'm not working on **_**Eye for the Samurai**_**. Because I need to work on that. I actually got a review on it, so hey, I have to work on it! It's a story I like, anyway!)**


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